


Where Giants Tread

by Raybradbury



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raybradbury/pseuds/Raybradbury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Laurent is sent off to live with the Vaskians in order to save him from The Regent and his machinations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Giants Tread

The babe was bright, swaddled in rich silk. The woman looked down at her small treasure, bathed in a royal violet hue, his blond hair near white in the moonlight. _Where was the messenger?_ A shiver ran up her spine, the crisp midnight breeze only serving to heighten her discomfort. She painted a strange figure, alone near the edges of her kingdom. Her bearing was regal despite the rags she wore. A necessary disguise, but still not enough to hide years of royal training. She shivered once more, her face drawn with impatience.  
  
  
“Is the winter red?” A harsh whisper called from the side of the road. The woman glanced up sharply, tensing for the worst even as recognition hit her.  
  
“Only when The Woman wishes,” she replied, voice high and clear. There was no response but for a rustle and, in a blink, the messenger stepped out of the bushes. She was tall, as all Mountain Women were, with an empty rucksack swung over her shoulders. Her clothes were practical but stretched tight with her breadth, and every step forward seemed to emphasise her musculature.  
  
“You have the package?” the messenger asked.  
  
The woman scoffed. “Can you not see what is swaddled in my arms, for you ask me needless questions?” It was unprompted, borne out of an inherent nervousness at what she was about to do. The messenger seemed surprised at her small show of teeth, a sharp step backwards giving it away.  
  
“Don’t snap at me, tiger lady,” the messenger placated. “I’m doing nought but what I was sent here to do.” The strange title, in lieu of the ever present ‘Your Majesty’ seemed absurd. She almost laughed, her nerves perturbed and pushing her to a wildness she rarely felt.  
  
“My name is Hennike,” she divulged, even as she gripped the bundle tighter. Time was running out and she had to relinquish the child to the messenger soon. “I am the Queen of Vere, and today I offer my son to you for protection.”  
  
The messenger, most likely familiar with this already, nodded. She seemed unwilling to trigger any more discussion. “Then do not prolong it, Your Majesty,” she said. “Let me take him, we will keep him safe, as promised.”  
  
The babe -- silent all through -- wriggled as babes were wont to, drawing Hennike’s attention. _My beautiful child_. She hugged him close, setting a kiss and a prayer on his small, wrinkled forehead. “Keep him safe,” she commanded. “Keep him safe.”


End file.
